


Shichi-gatsu ju-go-nichi

by the_rogue_bitch



Series: The Yearning of the Sword [9]
Category: Bleach
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), F/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, Romantic Gestures, Sexual Content, Sexual exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:16:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rogue_bitch/pseuds/the_rogue_bitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo turns 22 and gets some rather surprising gifts.</p><p>There's smut in this section.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shichi-gatsu ju-go-nichi

“What are you doing for your birthday?” Rukia asked. Ichigo looked up at the sound of her voice and smiled. He was in one of the practice rooms of the Academy, cleaning the floor and storing the weapons in their various racks. 

“Would you believe I forgot it was coming up?”

“I would find it _hard_ to believe,” Rukia leaned against the doorway, arms folded, eyebrow raised.

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal, and school is starting back up pretty soon after, so my mind was on other things.” 

“Oh, all right then. I won’t plan to do anything for you.” Rukia said lightly, turning to go. 

“Hey! That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” her voice floated back into the room as she walked away. 

“I am not running after you, Rukia!” 

“Fine with me!” 

“Infuriating, bossy, short, irritating, smart-assed midget!” Ichigo thumped rattan swords into the rack with emphasis. 

“I heard that!” 

“You were meant to!”

**

Ichigo was having the most erotic dream he’d ever had. He felt like he was suspended in a warm ocean, the pressure of it holding him down in the best way. Currents of heat traveled up and down his body, his limbs heavy and slow. The warmth seemed to be radiating outward from his cock, which was enveloped in something warm and soft and wet that kept moving up and down, slightly rough friction over the skin of the shaft and head. He wanted it to go slower. He wanted it to go faster. He wanted the dream to never end, the intensity of it so much more than any of his previous sex dreams. 

He felt his body gather itself as he started coming, breath faster, skin tingling, although his motion stayed with the slow roll of the hot waves travelling across his skin. His subconscious pushed him so that he was just under the surface of awakening. He stretched his body completely out, languorous, shivering as the orgasm swelled over and through him.

Ichigo woke fully, eyes still closed, gasping, hips straining up as he came so hard he felt like he’d turned inside-out for a second. He couldn’t move as he finished out, making surprised sounds until he stopped trembling. 

His cock was suddenly chilly as the warmth and wet friction removed itself. 

Wait, what? That never happened in his dreams.

Ichigo managed to open his eyes and saw Rukia standing at his sink, and heard the water running. For a minute he just enjoyed running his eyes over her naked backside, particularly the dimples above her ass. She turned, wiping her mouth on her arm. When she noticed Ichigo was awake and staring, she grinned mischievously at him. 

“Did you molest me in my sleep?”

“You were poking me. I thought you wanted attention.” Rukia climbed back into bed and pulled the comforter up over them.

“That thing always wants attention,” Ichigo rolled onto his side and pulled Rukia against him. He kissed her, tasting traces of his flavor in her mouth, bitter and tangy.

“Well, I thought it would give it what it wanted, since today is your birthday,” Rukia said, once her mouth was freed. “Did you truly not like it? You seemed to. I thought all men did.”

“You never have to apologize for waking me up like that. _Any_ day. But thank you for doing it today.”

Ichigo had been extremely wary of asking Rukia for that favor, due to a number of factors, not the least of which was the violence of her past. He also had jumbled and conflicted notions about Rukia’s dignity and professional position, and whether that went along with the idea of her pleasing him orally. They were nearing the end of their week of being able to sleep together discreetly, but Ichigo felt that they had time to explore that later. He didn’t want to pressure Rukia.

Typical of Rukia to remove him from the equation and deal with it herself. 

“You are welcome. And happy birthday.” Rukia smiled up at Ichigo from his encircling arms, and Ichigo couldn’t think of anything more he wanted from the day. It was already off to a great start.

“Let me up, I have to go to work,” Rukia pushed Ichigo’s arms off her and he let her go. He had to go to work, too, but not as early as she did. He sat up, forearms on his knees, watching Rukia’s efficient, confident activity.

“What are you doing today?” Rukia asked, giving herself a quick wash at Ichigo’s sink before donning her uniform.

“I don’t have anything special planned. I’ll be helping one of the kido classes and probably getting blasted by kids 10 years younger than me. After that, I don’t know.”

“I have something I want to show you after dinner. Can you meet me in my office when you’re done eating?”

“Of course,” Ichigo replied, intrigued. Rukia came over to the bed and kissed Ichigo one more time. 

“I will see you then,” she said.

Rukia left and Ichigo got started with his day a little more slowly, still recovering from the way she had awakened him.

**

It was a great birthday, meaning that it was a good, unremarkable, day. The students were easy on him -- he probably learned more about kido than he taught -- the weather was beautiful, and he had gotten his first ever blowjob.

As soon as he finished eating he left the dining hall and went to Rukia’s office. He knocked on the door, and then slid it open. She looked up and smiled at him.

“One moment, I am just finishing up,” she said, putting her pen away and dropping a file into a tray. She stood and they exited the barracks.

“Where are we going?” Ichigo asked, as they headed into a part of the seireitei he’d never seen.

“You’ll see,” Rukia said. As soon as they were out of sight of the barracks, she linked her fingers with Ichigo’s, and he smiled down at her.

“It’s going to be weird when life goes back to normal,” he said. “I don’t know how I’ll sleep, all by myself.”

“Maybe you’ll be so exhausted from school you won’t notice.”

“An absence of you? I always notice that. Even moreso, now.”

Rukia squeezed his hand and smiled slightly as they walked into some sort of residential area into a neighborhood of compounds.

“What’s this place?”

“Some shinigami marry, or have families. They live here, closer to the barracks.”

Rukia stopped in front of a tall wooden fence and opened the gate. The front yard led up to a sprawling house, a compound really, and Ichigo’s mind raced. What was this about? Was this -- ?

“This is my house,” she said, unlocking the door.

“You have a house?” Ichigo said faintly.

“It was my sister’s house. Nii-sama gave it to her so she could be close to him when he was working.” Rukia replied. “When she died, it was left empty, and then when I was adopted, it was given to me.”

Ichigo, still speechless, followed Rukia into the foyer, where they removed their footwear and hung their zanpakuto in the rack. Then they turned right down a short hallway into a large room. A kotatsu sat in the middle of the floor, and some low cushions were stacked against the wall. 

“Nii-sama makes sure it stays clean,” Rukia filled in the silence. “And you can see there is some furniture -- “

“Rukia, why don’t you live here instead of at 13th’s barracks? Or Byakuya’s house?” Ichigo interrupted. “It’s got to be more comfortable.”

“It is much too large for just one person,” Rukia replied. “I think I would feel lonely.”

This was a huge admission from Rukia. Ichigo only said, “I understand.” He wanted her to know that he heard what she had said, and what she had meant.

They went out of the kitchen into a breezeway, and Rukia slid a door open to a small veranda that faced a backyard. It was neatly kept, but it lacked vitality. Ichigo thought it might look nice with a firepit, and if one of the trees had a swing or something. Maybe a treehouse.

They sat at the edge of the veranda, their feet dangling. 

“I keep forgetting that when I marry you, I’ll be marrying into nobility.” Ichigo said.

“Had you put any thought at all into where we would live after we married?”

“I haven’t even asked you to marry me yet.” Ichigo smiled. “Don’t you think we should get that out of the way first?”

Rukia frowned and punched him in the arm.

“How come you’re showing me this, anyway? You do realize we could’ve been meeting here instead of waiting for everyone to be gone.”

“No, we could not. I’m not using my sister’s house for trysting,” Rukia sounded severe, but a smile lurked in her eyes. “I’m showing it to you now because it’s your birthday. This is my gift to you. A place for us.”

Ichigo was stunned into silence, staring at her. Rukia’s open expression started to change to one of confusion, and Ichigo pulled her into his lap, kissing her.

“Thank you,” Ichigo murmured. “You realize I’ll never be able to top this, right?” He started undoing her kosode.

“It’s not a contest and what do you think you’re doing?”

“I may be new at this, but I think by now you could recognize when I’m undressing you.”

“Out here?” Rukia’s word ended in a gasp as Ichigo slipped his hands inside her jacket and stroked her breasts as he pulled it off her. He untied her juban and pulled it out of her hakama, spreading them on the wooden planks of the veranda.

“It’s getting dark out,” Ichigo said, kissing her, “and there’s a high fence. More like a wall. The houses are really far apart. It’s not like anyone can see us.” 

“But Ichigo,” Rukia squirmed, obviously conflicted, her modesty at war with her desire.

“It’s my birthday, Rukia. Let me do this,” Ichigo said, laying her down on the jacket and sliding her untied hakama off. He stroked his hands down her torso, and she raised her hips to him. Ichigo liked Rukia like this, nude while he was still completely dressed. He ran a gentle thumb through her folds and found her wet.

“I don’t think you mind that much,” Ichigo said. “Not as much as you’re saying, anyway.” 

Rukia snapped her knees together and tipped them sideways, denying Ichigo access. She folded her arms across her breasts and glared up at him. “If you are going to ravish me outdoors then I insist you undress as well.”

Ichigo grinned and shrugged. There were worse fates. He took off his shihakusho, leaving it in a pile. He went to slip off the fundoshi, but Rukia said, “No, leave that on.” 

“Rukia, I hate this thing, come on,” he protested. Rukia wrapped her foot around her other ankle and raised her eyebrow.

“Oh fine,” Ichigo knelt on the porch, trying to unwind Rukia’s legs, her ankles in his hands. She wrapped her thighs around his hips and pulled him down on top of her to kiss him again. His cock bumped against her in all sorts of interesting ways and he groaned. 

“I wish --” Ichigo started. 

“Me too,” said Rukia, inching her way down his torso as he propped himself over her.

“It’s _your_ rule,” Ichigo said. “You _could_ change it.” Then he yelped as Rukia bit the skin of his stomach. Really hard. “Hey!”

“Even if I were to change it, which I won’t, I would still not make love with you on the veranda.”

“What, not ever?”

“No. And I want to leave something for our wedding night, even though I want you as much as you seem to want me.” 

“You keep setting me these challenges, Rukia. I bet we’ll have sex in every room of the house, the veranda, _and_ the backyard, eventually.”

“Because you’re so irresistible,” Rukia sniffed derisively.

“No, because _you’re_ irresistible,” Ichigo responded.

Rukia didn’t have anything to say to that because she was mouthing Ichigo’s cock through the fabric of the fundoshi. She lay on her back beneath him, hands cradling his balls, legs between his spread knees. Ichigo gritted his teeth, arms shaking, trying not to collapse at what she was doing. Pleasure wound its way throughout his body and finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Rukia, I’m going to fall on top of you if you don’t let me lay down,” he gasped out. She stopped and wriggled out from underneath him and knelt on the porch. 

“Lay on your side,” she said, and Ichigo, raising his eyebrows, complied. Then Rukia lay back down, on her side as well, but reversed, so her face was level with Ichigo’s groin. Ichigo's head was somewhere around the middle of her thighs. He felt Rukia roll down the top edge of the fundoshi until his cock was exposed, and then she slid it into her mouth. Ichigo, surprised, bucked his hips, and Rukia pushed him back slightly with a hand on his hip. Rukia’s mouth was not big. Ichigo was by no means enormous, but she still couldn’t take him all the way in without gagging. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, and she shook her head a little. She knew he hadn’t done it on purpose.

“Bend your leg, Rukia, I want to do that too,” Ichigo stammered, almost unable to form words. She did, and Ichigo curved his back, wrapping his arm around her hip, and pulled her to him.

Upside-down, Rukia’s sex was still as mysterious as it ever was, but Ichigo liked the contrast. He traced the contours of the hood with his tongue and then sucked it gently between his lips. Rukia’s sound of shock traveled up his cock and he groaned. He really wanted to move, to drive his cock a little deeper into Rukia’s mouth, but her grip on the base of him, controlling the depth of his entry, was strong.

Rukia did not hold back on the movement of her hips. Ichigo’s arm around her was long enough that he could curve his arm over her ass and insert a couple of fingers into her from behind. She made a surprised sound and undulated, her pubic bone bouncing off Ichigo’s chin. He kept her more or less still with his arm, sliding his fingers in and out of her as he flicked his tongue. Rukia’s cries of pleasure vibrating against his cock were doing nothing for his concentration in this endeavor. His orgasm poised over him like a cresting wave, and he had to stop what he was doing with Rukia, dropping his head onto her thigh and rolling his hips as quickly and shallowly as he could. 

“Rukia! Oh god...” 

Then the wave smashed down on him and he was gone, repeating Rukia’s name over and over. Pure sensation overtook him.

When he came back to himself, he attended to Rukia before he even caught his breath. Although aftershocks caused him to stop and start, he lifted his head and put his mouth back on her, sweeping his tongue around in tightening spirals, inserting a third finger inside her, feeling her exclamation all through his body. He’d never used three before, and her inner walls clamped down on them hotly. Rukia tried to keep Ichigo’s cock in her mouth, but as he brought her closer and closer to her own climax, she started to cry out, and it slipped from her. 

Rukia’s hold around Ichigo’s thighs was ferocious as she stabilized herself while her hips moved her against Ichigo’s mouth. He clamped his arm around her, trying to keep her still so he could work.

 _Come on, Rukia,_ he thought. _Come for me. Let me hear those beautiful sounds you make._

Rukia’s nails dug into Ichigo’s skin and she turned her head to muffle her voice in his leg. Her body bowed even further and she clenched around Ichigo’s fingers as she lost control of every muscle and inhibition. Her body slammed against his and she called Ichigo’s name so loudly that the neighbors probably heard her anyway.

Ichigo left his mouth on Rukia as she finished out, loving the feel of that thin petal of skin against his lips. He’d learned that Rukia liked a little light pressure there as she neared the end of her orgasm.

Gradually she slowed, and Ichigo felt her panting breaths on the insides of his thighs. He withdrew his fingers gently, then propped himself up on unsteady arms. He reversed himself, dislodging Rukia’s head from his thigh, eliciting an indignant sound. He lay down again, facing her and pulling her into his arms, resting his forehead on hers, looking into her eyes.

“You are surprisingly lewd,” Ichigo said, smiling. “I think I like it.”

Rukia’s hair was sweaty and her cheeks were flushed. She gave Ichigo a wicked smile and made a show of wiping the corners of her lips with her fingertip, then sliding it into her mouth, gaze locked on his. Ichigo groaned.

“Right, and you’re too modest to let me have you in every room of the house,” he said, tone heavy with disbelief.

“I’m open to persuasion,” Rukia replied, and threw a leg over Ichigo’s hip. He gently removed it and set her a couple of inches away from his pelvis. 

“It’s too tempting right now,” he explained. “I know you could stop me, but I’m starting to lose interest in controlling myself.”

“Perhaps it’s a good thing that our sleeping together will have a hiatus, then.” Rukia said.

“Perhaps,” Ichigo parroted drily. “Although I predict that I’ll be incredibly frustrated and cranky.”

“Do you give yourself release?” Rukia asked. She had the most archaic way of speaking sometimes.

Ichigo snorted. “Of course I do. I’m a 22-year-old man. I can’t walk around constantly hard, it’d be embarrassing.”

“Do you have fantasies when you do it?”

Ichigo shifted, a little wary, a little uncomfortable at this line of questioning. 

“Yes.” Ichigo braced himself for the inevitable next query.

“What do you think about?”

“Oh, I think about what it would look like if Rangiku fell out of her kosode,” he said blithely. Rukia made an outraged noise, shoving him. He rocked back slightly, and grinned at her. “I think about you, baka. Always. When I didn’t know anything but how it felt to kiss you, I’d imagine how you would feel with me. Now that I have this week to remember, I’ll have that.”

“I think I would like to see that,” Rukia murmured, fingertips tracing his cheekbone. Ichigo flushed.

“No! That’s embarrassing. And private.” Yet Ichigo’s cock seemed to think that was an awesome idea, he felt it get heavy and thick as it rose again. “Anyway, what about you? Do _you_ ever give _yourself_ release?”

“Up until recently, I had no real urge to,” Rukia said, still lightly touching him, stroking down the side of his neck to his shoulder.

“How recently?” Ichigo put his hand on Rukia’s hip, amazed how his palm stretched across her waist to her ribcage. She was so small.

“Sometime this spring, around cherry blossom time,” Rukia replied, fingers now travelling across his hipbone and down his inner thigh. He bent his knee to give her better access, getting short of breath.

“And do you think of me when you do it?” Ichigo grunted a little as Rukia stroked his balls. He noticed he was still in the fundoshi (testament to his total distraction) and unwound it. Then her warm hand cradled them without mediation.

“Most of the time,” Rukia said lightly, and Ichigo glared at her.

“What about the rest of the time?” he growled, pulling her to him so her arm and his cock were trapped between them. “You better not say Renji.”

“I am teasing you, Ichigo,” Rukia laughed. “Who else would I think about but you, who has so persistently and patiently wooed me these past months? You have awakened my body to hungers I believed long dormant.” 

“Would you ever show me?” Ichigo jerked as Rukia’s hand glided up his dick, thumb passing across the head and through the slit at the tip. 

“I might, if given the proper incentive,” Rukia’s hand moved up and down Ichigo’s cock and he shuddered, images crowding his brain in a high-speed erotic slideshow that made him gasp and arch his back.

“Rukia, what are you doing?”

“I would think that, after nearly a week together, you wouldn’t need me to explain this to you.” Both her hands worked him and he couldn’t stop his hips from moving himself into her hot grasp.

“No, it’s just -- why?” Higher brain function was definitely going offline.

“Because I like it. And you like it. And it’s your birthday.” Rukia’s hands were relentless. Ichigo had no reply because his brain broke in half and he was too shocked to be loud. He curled around Rukia, taking great shuddering breaths as hot loops of fluid spilled out over her hands. 

This one wouldn’t quit, either. Even after he finished, he still couldn’t stop the spasmodic shivers wracking him.

“Ichigo?” Rukia looked concerned. He just grabbed her and pulled her into his shivering body, swamped by the excess of physical pleasure and emotional rawness he felt. He kissed the top of her head.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked. Ichigo shook his head. “Do you want me to just hold you?” Ichigo nodded, clenching his jaw to stop his teeth chattering. He felt Rukia’s arms wrap around his ribs and neck, holding him in a tight, secure embrace. She rubbed his back, making soothing noises, and eventually he calmed down.

“That was...almost _too_ much,” Ichigo finally said, voice unsteady.

“Whatever will you do on our wedding night, if this is how you are now?” Rukia asked lightly, smiling gently up at him. 

“Die of satisfaction, probably,” Ichigo replied. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Rukia pinched Ichigo’s arm lightly and he chuckled.

“This has been the best birthday of my life. Thank you,” Ichigo kissed Rukia softly. 

“You are welcome. It is good to see you so happy.”

“It’s good to _feel_ this happy. You make me _very_ happy.”

“Then I’m glad,” Rukia said simply, and lay her head on Ichigo’s chest.

They must have dozed off, because the next time Ichigo woke up, the sky was black and studded with stars. Rukia huddled against him, shivering and still asleep.

“Rukia, wake up. Let’s go home,” Ichigo touched her shoulder. She rolled over and blinked up at him. 

“You’re cold. Get dressed and we’ll go to bed.”

“I am home,” Rukia said sleepily. 

“I know you are. But I’m not. My bed is far away. Subjectively.” 

Rukia tucked her face into the hollow between Ichigo’s neck and shoulder.

“No, right here,” Rukia’s voice was still drowsy. “I am home.” 

“Rukia,” he whispered, unable to say more under the onslaught of emotions her words unleashed in him. Did she mean that? He was home to her? His arms tightened around her and he caressed her hair with a trembling hand.

“Just when I think I couldn’t love you more…” he murmured, stroking her goosebump-stippled skin.

“Now you’re being sentimental,” she yawned.

“ _I’m_ being sentimental?”

Rukia wriggled out of Ichigo’s arms and stood. She sorted through the piles of clothing on the veranda, tossing Ichigo’s shihakusho onto his still-prone body. “Get dressed, and we will go to your subjective bed to sleep out the rest of the night.”

“You don’t have a romantic bone in your body, do you?” Ichigo grumbled, pulling on his clothes. 

“Giving you a house for your birthday is not a sufficiently romantic gesture?”

“You didn’t give me a house,” Ichigo pointed out. “You gave _us_ a house. That you already had.”

“I thought I was giving us an ‘us’. The house was just a symbol.” 

Ichigo rubbed his hands over his face as he followed Rukia into the house.

“Okay, you win. You have at least one romantic bone. Maybe your pinky finger.” Ichigo put on his tabi and waraji and then slung Zangetsu over his shoulder. 

“Just think of the grand gestures I could make if I had more romantic bones. I could give you an elephant.” 

“You could give me children,” Ichigo said without thinking. Rukia gave him a narrow look and didn’t say anything, locking the door and walking down the path to the gate.

“...Or not.”

“Can we discuss this later?” 

“Of course. If you promise that we _will_ talk about it.”

“I promise, Ichigo.”

“Good. Because I _really_ don’t want an elephant.”

Rukia stifled a laugh, and Ichigo put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Rukia didn’t pull away, even after they entered the seireitei. Ichigo only released her when they reached his room and he had to unlock his door.

When they got into bed, Rukia snuggled into Ichigo, tucked under his arm with her head on his shoulder. His right arm curled around her waist, holding her against him. They did this as naturally as if they had been sleeping together for much longer than a few days. 

“Thank you for everything today,” Ichigo said, kissing the top of Rukia’s head. “It really was the best birthday ever.”

“You’re welcome,” Rukia whispered. “I wish I could have given you more.”

“Everything I want is right here,” Ichigo replied, pulling Rukia closer.

“Sentimental,” Rukia said with a smile in her voice.

“Guilty as charged,” Ichigo replied. “And happily so.”

Rukia sighed and shifted, and Ichigo felt her body relax into his. He thought if he could just have more moments like this, with Rukia asleep and trusting in his arms, he wouldn’t want anything else for the rest of his life.

Ichigo was starting to feel like he was home, too, when he was with Rukia.


End file.
